I woke from a dream and in it a young boy of five, excited to accompany his older brother to the canteen, stands happily in the midst of giants.

Largely unseen in the rush and hubbub, he is jostled and bumped towards the front of the queue.

Quickly, his smile fades as he struggles to hold his ground.

Eyes wide and mouth open, he looks first to his brother and then around him at the moving fray.

As someone pushes back through the crowd he is bumped and fights to remain standing.

His efforts are in vain, and he falls to the ground.

He jumps straight back up, but his face is crumpled, and tears are springing from frightened eyes.

I step forward to stabilise him and make a safe space around him.

I know not who he is but that he is a child of the world.

He turns to face me and I see that I am mistaken.

It is me.